Ahaz has a pressing concern: two armies are pounding on his walls. Along with the command to “stand firm,” God gives a sign. This tells Ahaz the future, that the armies will leave in a few years. But it’s more than just a timer. God doesn’t give a number – God gives life all packed up as a warm, squirming child. Then He will do it again and again, three times in three chapters.
Isaiah says a child will be born, and before that child is weaned, both kings will leave. (7:15-16) This is a small prophecy for a specific situation, for only a few years. But the child’s name holds a larger truth that was unpacked over time, a prophecy that still speaks after millennia.
In scripture, only a few children are named by God: Ishmael is the first, then Isaac, Solomon, Josiah, the three in Isaiah (although the third is not properly named), and finally John the Baptist and Jesus. These names themselves are prophecies. As George MacDonald wrote in “The New Name,” God knows “what a man is going to become as surely as he sees the oak which he put there lying in the heart of the acorn.” God knows what that baby is going to be, and how God’s glory will be revealed. These names testify that God is at work in history, drawing us to Himself and making things right.
Parents participate in this process when they name their child. Sometimes the name is confirmed in surprising ways. We named one of our children after the Celtic word for “fire” while he was still in utero. When he was born, I saw wispy red hair! The nurse said we were fooling ourselves, it was so faint. But he grew up to be a bright redhead, competitive and caring. Our name fit.
Every parent has hopes, but God’s promises are sure. That is especially true with the name of this first child in Isaiah, the meaning of which has expanded and intensified as history has worn on. “Im-manu-el” means literally that YHWH is the “With-us-God.” God is present and personal, at every time and in every place.
As Christians, we believe that these words came true with unimagined intensity when the transcendent God — who is like an infinite sphere with its center everywhere — somehow became this one mewling baby, tiny and wrapped tight. God was more than “with” us. He was and is one of us, fully human and fully divine, once cradled in a manger, now seated at the right hand of his Father.
Jesus was the ultimate gift of God, and he imitated and incarnated his Father. Jesus even went around re-naming his disciples, like his Father had named Immanuel, changing Simon to Peter (John 1:42) and calling James and John the Sons of Thunder (Mark 3:17). Jesus looked at his disciplines and saw what each would choose to be, when he said “Follow me.”
Don’t forget that “Immanuel” means God is with “us,” not just “you” or “me.” This includes your family (even that one, you know who I’m talking about), your friends, your enemies, and your church. If it’s a gray day, and I don’t sense that God is with me, maybe he will reveal himself through someone else, in conversation or in wordless grace. Maybe what He will reveal is someone else’s burden I can carry. God is with her, God is with him, and God is with me.
God was with King Ahaz even when surrounded by armies. But God did not force Ahaz to stay with Him. Ahaz looked outside for salvation, and ultimately brought the very Empire he feared most to his own land.
Judah’s battle with Assyria would take decades to develop, and it would eventually be for Ahaz’s son Hezekiah to fight. Sons often have to fight their fathers’ battles, I guess. God would be with Hezekiah, too, and in many ways he would succeed where his father had failed. He would also show some of the same weaknesses.
Through this cycle of sins and strengths of the fathers, God’s Word lasts from generation to generation. Immanuel’s name and promise applied to Ahaz, to Hezekiah, to Judah in exile, to Bethlehem in 4 B.C., and to us today.
When God wanted to say something, he sent Isaiah, then he sent Immanuel, then he sent two more specific children, and last of all he sent his only Son. He says, “I am with you.” Sometimes I even believe it. But whether I do or don’t at the moment, its truth remains. It is indelibly written in the past so that we can trust it forever.
(Photo credit: Mary DeCracker)
Lilly Ann sent the link. Very good. Reading about generational curses. Somewhat similar. Thanks, Uncle Bill